


I Love You More

by jostxnneil



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bachelor Party, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Sorry if anyone is OOC, drunk! bitty, drunk! jack zimmerman, jack and bitty are so in love these dorks, this is my first omgcp fic so pls be nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jostxnneil/pseuds/jostxnneil
Summary: Jack and Bitty attempt to have separate bachelor parties on the same night, but after a few drinks they're both missing each other. Their teammates try to keep them entertained and distracted from thoughts of each other, but it doesn't work so well. Shenanigans ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There were a few tumblr posts that prompted this but the fic request itself came from a friend. @honeyvain on tumblr had a post that contributed, as well as @sapphicasha and @thedarkirishsilence. If anything seems familiar, it's probably because it's from a post by one of those three. This is my first fic for omgcp so if anyone seems ooc that's why. Enjoy!

“I miss Jack,” Bitty mumbles into his drink. A few minutes ago, he was fine, the alcohol was buzzing pleasantly through his head and Lardo kept making him laugh but then he saw someone in the crowd wearing a Falconers jersey which made him think of Jack and now all he wants is his husband.

“Bitty,” Lardo scolds, “We talked about this. Shut up and drink your tequila.”

Bitty wrinkles his nose. “Lard _ooooo,_ ” he whines.

“Bittyyyyy,” Lardo mocks, and rolls her eyes when his only reaction is to turn pleading eyes on her. She stands and holds out her hand for him to take. “Come on, Bits, let’s go sing karaoke. Rans and Holster have been nagging the bartender for a half hour to get it started and it’d be a waste if they didn’t even get to hear you sing one Beyonce song.” 

Bitty brightens at that, and lets her haul him to his feet, grabbing his drink before she tows him towards the stage where they’ve just finished setting up for karaoke and Rans and Holster are enthusiastically waving them down.

In the end, Bitty sings _seven_ Beyonce songs, a Taylor Swift song that Holster picked, and Thomas Rhett’s ‘Die a Happy Man.’ Lardo keeps him supplied with a drink the whole time, so that by the end he’s swaying on his feet and talking nonstop.

What about? Jack, of course. Earlier in the night, he might've been making an effort to keep his mind away from his fiance, in an attempt to enjoy the night without him, for the sake of their friends who put this together, but at this point, he's too intoxicated to care anymore.

“—and he’s _so gentlemanly,_ Lardo, have you noticed how _chivalrous_ and _polite_ he is? He’s always such a _sweetheart_ —“

“That’s cuzza you, Bits, ya know he wasn’t like that ‘fore he started dating you—“

“—his _arms_ are so _strong_ he could probably pick me up with _one hand_ —“

“Bits, _I_ could probably pick you up with one hand; you’re pretty small…”

“ _Oh,”_ Bitty suddenly says, before breathing out a happy sigh and giggling.

Ransom squints curiously at him from where he’s draped across Holster’s lap. “What?”

“I am _in love_ with Jack Zimmerman. I am _marrying_ Jack Zimmerman,” Bitty says, looking in awe of the fact, and then he giggles again.

“Yes, Bitty, that’s sort of what we’re celebrating here,” Lardo deadpans, and Bitty giggles even more.

“Oh, _Lord._ I am in love with _Jack Zimmerman_ and _Jack Zimmerman_ is in love with me.” His whole face twists up into a completely ridiculous smile, with crinkled eyes and all of his teeth. “Lardo! I’m marrying Jack!”

“I know, Bitty.”

“He’s gonna be my husband!”

“I _know,_ Bitty.”

Bitty settles back into their booth in a fit of happy laughter, his cheeks flushed and blonde hair sticking up in every direction.

* * *

 

“I miss my husband,” Bitty slurs, and Lardo has to stop herself from sighing in exasperation.

“Bitty, come on, you’re gonna see him in the morning, that’s not that long—“

“That’s _so long,_ Lardo! That’s hours and hours and _hours!_ It’s _forever!”_

Lardo opens her mouth to reply but before she can, her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she takes the opportunity to hand off Bitty to Ransom and Holster for a bit.

When she sees who’s calling, she has a pretty good idea what it’s about.

“Shitty?”

“Lards. Jack _refuses_ to shut up about Bitty,” Shitty begins, his tone strained.

“There is no way it’s as bad as Bitty—“ Lardo starts to argue, but Shitty scoffs and then there’s a sudden increase in sound—as Shitty puts his phone on speaker, Lardo realizes—and Jack’s voice.

“Shitty. Shitty, man, are you listening? My husband is so tiny. He’s so small I don’t know how he’s so small man but he’s just so. Small. So tiny. I can pick him up with one arm what even is that.”

Lardo has to smother an incredulous laugh—Jack’s comments are almost the perfect complement to Bitty’s earlier ramblings.

“I’ve had to listen to that for an _hour,_ Lards. He wouldn’t stop talking about Bittle’s ass earlier. They're so spectacularly in love, Lards; it's beautiful. It feels like my children are getting married.”

"Shitty, no.  _No._ Bitty sang Halo and dedicated it to Jack. He literally said, 'This song is for my _fiancé_ and soon-to-be _husband_ , Jack,' and then proceeded to go on for about five minutes about how much he loves Jack and can’t wait to marry him. That’s not even the worst of it, Shits. Have you checked twitter? I had to confiscate Bitty’s phone because he was tweeting about Jack _nonstop._ I can’t even chirp him because Bitty added to the bylaws that bachelor parties and weddings were perfectly acceptable places for PDA and what the fuck ever. I’m going to scream.”

"Lards, you just need to embrace the gay. They're gorgeous and I love them--every time Jack starts waxing eloquent poetry about Bitty's eyes or lips or ass I have to stop myself from crying. Just let it in, Lards. Let their beautiful gay asses fill that defensive stone heart with fluff."

Lardo rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to reply, but before she can--

“ _LARDO!”_ Bitty suddenly hollers, causing Lardo to start so badly she almost drops her phone. When she looks up to find him, alarmed, he’s waving around a fresh drink—something unnaturally pink—and trying determinedly to get to her, ignoring or unaware of the fact that Holster has a hold on the back of his shirt, effectively preventing him from going anywhere. When Bitty sees he’s gotten her attention, he breaks out in a toothy grin and waves energetically.

“Lardo, come play Truth or Dare!”

“What the actual fuck, Bittle.”

“What?” Shitty asks, and Lardo abruptly realizes she’s still on the phone with him.

“Bitty wants to play Truth or Dare.”

“…Oh my god, these kids are going to kill me. Just--holy fucking shit, Lards, what—“

A crash on his end puts an abrupt end to whatever he was about to say, and he’s suddenly yelling, “Jack, what the _fuck_ ,” in Lardo’s ear. At the same time, Lardo notices that Ransom is trying to get her attention, looking vaguely panicked, and when she looks around to find what he’s on about, she sees Bitty trying to climb onto the bar with Holster’s hand on his ankle pulling him back.

At the same time, she and Shitty both say, “I have to go,” and hang up.

“Bitty! What happened to Truth or Dare?”

* * *

 

“Okay, Bittle, your turn.”

“Lardo!” Bitty exclaims immediately, grinning. “Truth or—“

“Dare,” Lardo replies—and then instantly regrets it when Bitty’s drunken grin turns into a triumphantly mischievous smirk.

“I dare you…to take me to Jack.”

Lardo stares at him, reluctantly impressed by his ability to _plot_ when he’s this drunk.

“Oh, fuck you, Bittle,” she says, and his grin just gets bigger. He knows she’s never passed in a game of truth or dare, as well as that she’d be deeply against ever breaking that record.

“…Lardo.” Holster’s voice is hushed and shocked. “Are you gonna take a shot?”

Lardo’s eyes narrow into a glare, still focused on Bitty.

“No. I’m gonna take you to Jack.”

* * *

 

“Lardo, _no._ I just got him to stop describing Bitty’s eyes for the seventeenth time—they _can. Not._ See each other. We agreed at the beginning of the night that we were going to give them separate bachelor parties and that they were going to  _enjoy it._ They're fucking beautiful and I love them but you're not supposed to spend your bachelor party with your fiance.

“Oh, come on, Shitty. It’s what they’ve both been asking for all fucking night—who are we to deny them?”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose at _Truth or Dare,_ of all things.”

“Shitty.”

“Oh my—fine! Fine, fine, fine. But if they're cute with each other and I start crying, you are _not allowed_ to chirp me about it.”

“Done.”

* * *

 

“JACK!” Bitty shrieks, throwing himself at his fiancé and wrapping his limbs around him like an uncoordinated octopus. Jack staggers back unsteadily with a laugh, his face flushed and cheeks a cheery red from the buzz of drunkenness.

“Bitty!” he exclaims, ecstatic. “What are you doing here? I was just telling Shitty how much I wished you were here!”

“I made Lardo bring me!” Bitty tells him, beaming. “Just ‘cause—Jack. I love you. You know that, right? I just wanted to make sure.”

Shitty and Lardo exchange looks over Jack’s shoulder--Shitty moony-eyed and grinning, Lardo exasperated. 

Jack laughs. “I love you too! Hey, hey—Bitty. We’re getting married!”

“I am _aware,_ Mr. Zimmerman!” Bitty drawls, and promptly bursts into giggles again.

Jack buries his face against Bitty’s neck, a dopey smile stretching his lips and crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. He’s still swaying, his feet less than firmly planted, and Shitty and Lardo look at each other simultaneously with the same thought.

“Okay, Jack, Bits; let’s get you two in a seat. Eurgh—no—no, you don’t _have_ to let go of each other if you don’t want to. Just—sit down, before you both fall and hurt yourselves. Neither of you are sober enough to—oh my god.”

“Lardo, _look at_ _them_ —precious beans. They are actual cinnamon rolls, I'm going to cry--“

“Do. Not. _Start.”_

* * *

 

“Itty Bitty,” Jack mumbles affectionately, patting Bitty’s face and hair. “ _My_ itty Bitty.”

Bitty’s barely suppressed giggles turn into deep-belly laughs after only a few more seconds of Jack’s absentminded rambling. He starts hiccupping, burying his red face against Jack’s chest, and Jack looks down at him with the most comically confused expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned.

Bitty looks up at him, eyes still brimming with mirth. “Jack, honey—oh, nothing. You’re just—you’re so in love with me, I’m a little embarrassed for everyone else here!”

Jack blinks slowly at him. “…are you an itty bitty bit embarrassed?”

The hiccups quickly make a reappearance, to absolutely no one’s surprise. Jack decides on a different tactic to quiet his fiancé this time around—kisses.

“…maybe we should take you guys back to the apartment.”

* * *

“Bittle, you are _drunk._ I am not letting you anywhere _near_ an oven. _Stop trying to bake us pie._ You already baked, like, twenty pies today. There’s plenty in the fridge for everyone.”

“But it’s not _fresh,”_ Bitty whines, making halfhearted grabby hands towards the kitchen. “It tastes better just out of the oven.”

“Bitty, your pies already taste better than literally every other pie in the world. They don’t _need_ to be better. Just—sit. Go. Shoo. I’ll get pie for everyone.”

Bitty pouts for all of six seconds before Jack comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his shoulder. He leans into it, looking up at him with starry eyes.

“Why, _hello_ , Mr. Zimmerman. Whatever are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Jack replies, deadpan.

“Well, _of course,_ Mr. Zimmerman. What I meant was, what is such a fine young gentleman as yourself doing with your arms wrapped so casually around an innocent Southern belle like me?”

Shitty snorts. “Innocent, my ass,” he grumbles.

“Marrying you?” Jack offers.

“Not yet,” Bitty reminds him seriously—but then he ruins it by breaking into a face-splitting grin. “But yes, Mr. Zimmerman, we’re getting married! You’re making an honest man of me! ‘Course, I have to say I’m quite looking forward to the _honeymoon_ part of the whole deal…”

Holster snorts beer out of his nose and starts coughing and wheezing with shocked laughter while Ransom pounds him on the back.

Jack grins and carefully shuffles backwards a few steps before letting himself fall back onto the couch, pulling Bitty with him with a small _oomph._ Bitty immediately turns and curls up in his lap, snuggling closer until they’re plastered together. He then turns to look at Jack with what he must think is a seductive expression.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, Bits?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Bitty.”

“…hey, Jack?”

“Hmmm?”

“If we love each other, we should get married.”

“Yeah, we should.”

Bitty lets himself lean into Jack even more, breathing out a contented sigh. Jack looks at his face as if he were an angel, and leans forward to let their foreheads brush.

“Hey, Bits?”

“Yes, Mr. Zimmerman?”

“Let’s get married.”

“Okay, Jack.”

* * *

“ _Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose…”_ Jack sings softly, his breath tickling Bitty’s ear. Bitty giggles and blushes, tucking his face under Jack’s chin.

Jack smiles and closes his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to Bitty’s temple before continuing to murmur the lyrics into Bitty’s hair.

“ _Il me dit des mots d’amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ҫa me fait quelque chose,”_ Jack whispers, and Bitty’s lips quirk up into a soft smile as he turns to kiss the corner of Jack’s mouth, effectively distracting him from the song.

“Jack Laurent Zimmerman, I am very much in love with you,” he says happily, the words slightly slurred and muffled but intelligible nonetheless.

“I’m in love with _you,_ Eric Richard Bittle,” Jack opens his eyes to look at Bitty, and then closes them again to sigh and snuggle closer. “I’m in love with you _a lot.”_

“I’m marrying you,” Bitty states in wonder, his eyes far away. “You’re gonna be my husband.”

Jack opens his eyes just to kiss him again.

* * *

 

"You two should go to bed.”

“’M fine here,” Bitty slurs.

“Look, you’re both already gonna wake up with the worst hangovers. The least you can do for yourselves is sleep in a real bed. Or, you know, not on the floor.”

“Don’t wanna get up,” Jack grumbles, and Bitty hums agreement.

“Look, if you sleep on the floor, you’ll regret it. It’ll only take a few minutes to get up and get into a real bed. It might seem like a lot of effort now, but in the morning you’ll thank your drunk selves for using a pillow.”

Bitty opens one eye to look at Jack, who’s doing the same.

At the same time, they roll over and tangle themselves together, twisting until they find a knot that’s comfortable for both of them.

“W’ll be ‘ch other’s pillows,” Bitty mumbles sleepily. “Go ‘way now. Sleep time.”

There’s an exasperated groan, but they’re left to each other’s company without further attempts to get them to move.

“Love you, Jack,” Bitty murmurs.

“Love you too, Bits,” Jack whispers back. “’M glad we got to spend our bachelor party together. Even if that’s not the way you’re s’posed to do it.”

“’M glad we did too, Jack. ‘M really happy we’re getting married…I love you. Did I tell you that? I love you so much, Jack Zimmerman.”

“You did,” Jack says, “and I love you more, Eric Bittle.”

“’S not true,” Bitty argues, consciousness quickly fading. “I love _you_ more.”

“ _Non,_ ” Jack replies, his drunken sleepiness causing his words to fall back into an accent. “I’ll always love you more, Bits.”

“Nope…impossible…I love you…more…”

They mumble sleepily at each other for a few minutes before they both fall into sleep, their breathing turning even and slow.

They’ll never know who won the argument.


End file.
